Max Stone and the Lost Star of Zirdon

by Declan Clarke

  MAX STONE

  AND THE LOST STAR OF ZIRDON

  Declan Clarke Liam Clarke

  To Grandad Tony

  To Jane for showing us the magic in the world & to Jack for his energy and ideas. We had great help with the editing from Angela & Aaron, thanks again guys…

  Follow Max and his adventures on:

  www.facebook.com/MaxStoneAdventures

  @MaxZirdon

  Front cover design by PROVIZ www.proviz.ie

  © 2013 DECLAN CLARKE & LIAM CLARKE

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systems—without the prior written permission of the authors.

  ISBNS

  EPUB: 978-1-78237-237-0

  MOBI: 978-1-78237-238-7

  PDF: 978-1-78237-239-4

  ePublished by ORIGINAL WRITING LTD., Dublin, 2013.

  CHAPTERS

  CHAPTER 1 SUMMER HOLIDAYS

  CHAPTER 2 THE ATTIC

  CHAPTER 3 OUT OF THIS WORLD

  CHAPTER 4 THE LOST STAR

  CHAPTER 5 ATTACK OF THE KAEMON KLANN

  CHAPTER 6 DASH TO ELGONZE

  CHAPTER 7 THE TIGRAL TRIBE

  CHAPTER 8 THE RANGUILLA

  CHAPTER 9 OLD FRIENDS

  CHAPTER 10 “EARTH BOY FOR BRRREAKFAST”

  CHAPTER 11 THE GATHERING

  CHAPTER 12 ‘FOR ZIRDON!’

  CHAPTER 13 BEATING HEART OF ZIRDON

  CHAPTER 14 THE KEY

  CHAPTER ONE

  SUMMER HOLIDAYS

  The bell rang for the last time.

  School was out and summer lay ahead for Max Stone - a summer full of mystery and adventure. And best of all for Max and his friends, no homework for the whole summer long!

  ‘That’s it class, enjoy your summer’ called Mr Stevenson, the sixth class teacher. The classroom erupted into happy chaos and smiling children celebrated the last day of school by throwing their books in the air and bursting out the door into the warm summer afternoon.

  ‘So Max’ said Mia over the noise ‘what’s up for your summer, got anything planned?’

  ‘Sure thing’ Max smiled, ‘tomorrow I’m off to my Gran’s house in Kerry. How about you?’

  Mia’s face lit up ‘Horse camp for two weeks’ she said ‘and then I get to work in the stables for the rest of the summer.’

  ‘Cool’ he said and just then Michael came up behind Max, whooping with excitement ‘

  ‘We’re freeeeeee!!!’ he clapped Max’s shoulder.

  As they all went home, Max thought he was going to miss his friends for the summer but he was happy that they would all be moving on to the same secondary school next year.

  The next morning Max’s mom dropped him off at the bus station.

  ‘Now you’re sure you’ll be all right?’ she asked for about the tenth time. ‘You can wait and come down with us next week if you’d prefer?’

  ‘Aw, come on Mom, I’ll be fine. I’m thirteen now.’ Max groaned ‘I mean Gran will be waiting at the other end to pick me up, so no worries eh?’

  ‘You won’t be lonely down in Kerry all by yourself, without us I mean?

  ‘No chance, Mom there’s tons of cool stuff to do down there, besides the Walshes will be down and me and Ben will have lots to do.’

  The Walshes always went down to Kerry for summer holidays too and they stayed in a little holiday cottage just across the road from the huge old house his gran lived in. Max and Ben always spent their summers exploring the woods and getting into all sorts of mischief.

  ‘Ben and I’ she corrected him as she smiled and tussled his black hair.

  ‘All right then.’ She hugged him for the twentieth time and asked him ‘are you sure you packed everything?’

  ‘Yep,’ he said tapping his rucksack, ‘I’ve packed everything, Mom.’ His sling-shot was packed and so was his book. And he had at least one clean pair of everything, and after that well who cares?’

  Max sat up on his bus seat and tucked into his snack of apple juice, crisps and a Mars bar. He finished his snack in a few minutes and soon drifted off to sleep. He had learned that the best way to pass a long journey was to snooze it away.

  When the bus finally pulled into the station he could see his Gran standing there, waiting and waving. She wore one of her big wide hats and a brightly coloured dress and looked the picture of summer.

  ‘Hi Max’ she rushed over and hugged him.

  ‘Hi Gran’ he called as he leapt off the bus.

  ‘So how was the trip?

  ‘Great thanks, I slept for a while and it helped pass the time’

  ‘And how are your Mom and Dad? Well, I hope?’ his Gran asked

  ‘Ah yea they’re great, told me to say they were asking for you.’

  ‘So what shall we do on your first night? How about we head into town for pizza - my treat’

  ‘Sounds great’ said Max

  They left her little old Ford Fiesta in the bus station car park and wandered down town to the local pizza restaurant.

  Max loved ‘Fredo’s Pizza House’; it was one of the best places in town to eat. They served awesome garlic bread and really spicy pepperoni on their pizza.

  When they got to the restaurant, Fredo came out to the door to welcome them.

  ‘Ah Max Stone, so glad to see you back in our little town. It really is like summer has finally arrived.’

  ‘Hi Fredo’ Max smiled, his tummy rumbled at the smells in the little restaurant. A warm smell of garlic bread wafted from the ovens and mingled with the rich scent of freshly cooked pizza. Max looked around and the place was as neat as ever with red and white check table cloths and a small vase of fresh flowers in the centre of each table.

  ‘Hi Fredo’ his Gran added.

  ‘I have the best seat in the house just for you, come in come in!’ Fredo said with a flourish.

  Fredo, a very friendly man from Venice in Italy, wore a clean white apron over his rather large belly. He had jet black hair and a neatly trimmed moustache.

  Fredo pulled out the chair for Max’s Gran and she sat down.

  ‘Thank you Fredo’ she said. ‘I don’t think we have any need of menus.’ She looked over to Max and asked ‘what do you think Max, going to have your usual?’

  ‘Sure thing’ he beamed

  They each ordered a full size pepperoni pizza, cooked extra crispy, and a side order of garlic bread. Because it was a special occasion they each ordered a soda.

  Fredo smiled ‘A great choice, now relax while we get your order for you.’

  As they waited for the food to arrive his Gran took on a serious sort of look for a moment and said ‘I’m afraid I have a little bad news for you, Max’

  ‘Oh, what’s that? he asked

  ‘Ben and his family might not be down for at least another week, it seems. I got a call from his mom just this morning. She said to say she was awfully sorry. Sounded like Ben was pretty disappointed about it’

  ‘Aw no’ he groaned. ‘How come?’

  ‘Something to do with his dad having to do another job before they finish up for the summer, but they hope to be down by next Monday.

  This wasn’t what Max had planned at all. He had hoped that he and Ben would learn to sail his Granddad’s old sailing boat, and well he had lots of plans for them this week.

  Fredo soon arrived at the table balancing plates of steaming hot food. ‘Here we go, two freshly cooked thin based pepperoni pizzas, cooked extra crispy and a side order of garlic bread’.

  ‘Thanks Fredo’, he and his Gran said at the same
time.

  Max took a bite of the delicious pepperoni pizza, the pepperoni’s extra spice kicking in and he smiled. ‘Thanks Gran and it really is ok that Ben won’t be down for another few days, there’s always a lot to do around here.’

  Once they finished dinner, they thanked Fredo and drove back to his Gran’s house. The road from the town soon opened out to the countryside and they were surrounded by mountains, forests and babbling streams. It only took about 15 minutes but to Max it felt like they entered another world. A world of adventure and fun.

  Once Max caught sight of his Gran’s huge old mansion he had a familiar rush of excitement. It was just about ten miles outside of town but it could have been anywhere in the whole world.

  ‘Wow’ he said. ‘The place is looking great, Gran’

  ‘Thanks Max, Peter Robinson from the village helped me to paint it up last month. The house was a huge towering mansion set into a very old orchard. The trees were coming into fruit and he instantly recognised the ancient apple tree, the cherries and the plums.

  The house gleamed behind the trees and towered proudly high above them. It was fully three stories high a high attic that even had its own window to the outside. He and his Granddad Arthur had counted all the rooms in the house two summers ago. There had been 42 in total, 43 if you counted the attic.

  Max felt a pang of sadness sad when he thought of his Granddad Arthur. It had been almost two years since they got ‘that’ call at home. Max remembered it well. His Mom had been in the kitchen when they heard Granddad Arthur had returned injured from one of his epic adventures. This time his Granddad had been hunting in deep Africa and he had come back with a mysterious wound. He had been at home for a day or so when he began to feel unwell. The injury had begun to look fierce and angry. His Gran rushed him to hospital and the doctors did everything they could. But they had never seen a gash like it before. He had been too weak to tell them which animal had inflicted the deep jagged cut to his side.

  The whole family rushed down to Kerry. But by the time they got there, Granddad Arthur had passed away peacefully in his sleep.

  His Gran, now beside him in the little car, looked at Max’s glum face ‘Are you thinking of Granddad Arthur, Max?’

  He stirred from his memories, ‘Oh sorry, Gran, yes I guess I was, I miss him awfully you know.’

  ‘Oh, so do I Max, but wait until you come inside and you’ll know he never went very far away.

  They pulled the little green car right up outside the front door and stepped out onto the gravel drive.

  Inside the place was wonderful. In the evening sun the large hallway opened out brightly in welcome. On the walls hung the familiar tapestries and rugs collected over the years of adventures and hunting trips. Just on the left hung an enormous painting of a tiger leaping in mid air, and to the right a painting from China showed a peaceful Zen Tree. And the smells were wonderfully familiar, a mix of burning turf from the stove in the kitchen and exotic spices brought back from places far away.

  Max looked to his Gran with a wide smile ‘Great to be back Gran.’

  ‘And it’s lovely to have you to stay Max, the old house needs a youngster like you to explore its mysteries.’

  ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on, shall I? What would you like, a hot chocolate before bed, maybe?’

  ‘Ah yea, that would be great, thanks Gran’

  ‘Why don’t you go on up and get settled into your room’. Gran disappeared down the hall and took the few short steps that led to the downstairs kitchen. It was from here that the smells of turf fire and cooking spices wafted.

  ‘Sure thing Gran’ and with that Max bounded up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom for the summer.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE ATTIC

  Max sat in the kitchen staring out at the rain.

  He was bored.

  Part of him wished he had gone into the Saturday Fair with his Gran. Saturday in Listowel was fair day and his Gran always picked up her old friend, Mrs DeLahunte, for the day.

  ‘Oh I know she’s old and a bit bothersome at times, Max,’ she had said to him last night, ‘but she rarely gets out during the week. Her daughter is over in England and, well, she doesn’t have anyone else.’

  Mrs DeLahunte was a very nice old lady and Max’s worst nightmare all rolled into one. She could talk for hours, nonstop, in a high pitched voice that sounded like she was annoyed most of the time. She also had an irritating habit of pinching Max’s cheek and telling him how cute he was and how she remembered that he wore nappies when he came down to Kerry first. What bugged Max most of all was that she could spend up to 20 minutes in a butcher shop trying to pick out which pork chop she would have for her Saturday tea. She would then moan about it all the way home in the car. How much it cost, the way they always trimmed the fat off and kept the best bits for themselves.

  No, Max had learned his lesson about going with his Gran to Fair Day in Listowel last summer.

  Outside it lashed rain. It wasn’t the sort of soft rain you could put a coat on and still go out and have fun. This was the torrential type. Huge drops fell from the sky to splash into the puddles below and it seemed like there was no stopping it.

  His Gran, who had left before Max got up just after nine, had left him a very nice note on the Fridge.

  ‘Dear Max,

  I’ve left brown-bread and homemade raspberry jam on the counter for your breakfast. For lunch I made the tomato soup you like and if you get peckish help yourself to anything you can find in the fridge.

  Hope to be home by six, and Oh! Don’t stray too far from the house!!

  Love Gran. X X X’

  Max took the note to the window and looked outside. There was no fear of him straying too far from the house, he thought miserably. There was no fear of him straying anywhere at all.

  Outside, black rain clouds gathered and he watched his plans for a day of hunting rabbits in the old sand dunes behind the house wash away. He had planned to go hunting rabbits with the slingshot his Granddad Arthur had given him when he was ten. First, he had planned a bit of target practice by the giant apple tree in the back garden. He and his Granddad had tied targets, coke bottles, tin cans and a tin baking tray from Gran’s kitchen. She had scolded both of them for that one but it always made such a satisfying clang when you hit it, that it was worth it. There was no chance of that now. It was simply too wet and miserable out.

  He enjoyed his breakfast of brown-bread and jam, put his plate away in the sink and wandered into the old sitting room where his Gran kept her little old TV set. Max was sure it must have been an antique by now. It was one of those portable types that sat on top a pile of old books in the corner. He flicked the set on and his heart sank a little when the screen snowed a crackly white. No reception.

  ‘Ah man’ Max groaned. He fiddled about with the ariel, the old fashioned rabbit ears that sat on top of the TV, to see if it would make any difference, but nothing.

  Outside the rain got heavier.

  The kitchen clock read 10.00 and he had a whole day to kill.

  Now, in any ordinary house this might have been difficult, but in this old mansion there were rooms to be explored, ones his Gran probably hadn’t been in since his last visit. He made his way to the large old room on the first floor, just above the kitchen. In the old days, when the house had servants and bustled with life, dinner parties were thrown in here. He opened the door to the high-ceilinged room and he marvelled at how his Granddad had transformed it from a dusty old dining hall to a trophy cabinet. All of the animal specimens and other things he had brought back from Africa were on show in here. The large dining table was still there, of course, only now it was covered with dozens and dozens of stuffed monkeys, ant eaters and snakes.

  On the walls hung the heads of huge beasts his Granddad had hunted. A huge collection of Voodoo masks, old black magic from the deepest Africa, hung around the walls. Set against the far wall sat dozens of tribal hunting spears and Max dived right
into these. In his imagination he created the scene and he was Max Stone, explorer and adventurer and he had to ward off the evil spirits. He imagined the drawing room transformed into the plains of Africa and the Voodoo masks became the evil spirit lords he had to hunt down. The tribal spears became his weapons and the monkeys his friends who warned him when a spirit lord came up from behind.

  He played his game of make-believe for ages, lost in the magic of the old room and treasures from afar.

  About midday he began to feel hungry and Max made himself more bread and jam down in the kitchen. The soup would keep until later. As he ate he listened to the rain beating against the windows. His imagination wandered to the attic.

  ‘Ah, the attic,’ he thought.

  This was a place he knew Granddad Arthur kept many of his secret treasures; he had heard him talk about it in hushed tones to his Gran many times when he was younger. There would be some cool stuff to play with up there.

  Max left the kitchen and climbed the first flight of stairs where his and his Gran’s bedrooms were and went on up to the second floor. This floor of the house was not often used. When he reached the landing he looked around. It smelled up here, a little dusty and old, and he wondered when his Gran had last ventured up. This floor of the house had a lonely feel to it.

  He carried on to the end of the corridor towards the little stairs that lead up to the attic. Max took it step by step - the light got lower and dimmer as he moved higher up the narrow staircase. When he reached the top he came to an ancient looking wooden door with a round porcelain handle. He reached out his hand and turned, holding his breath.

  Nothing happened.

  It was locked.

  Of course he thought to himself, his Granddad wasn’t about to hold all his secret treasures in a room that wasn’t locked.

  What would he do?

  How would he get into the attic? And then a thought struck him. At first he thought it was silly. There was no way it could be as easy as that, was there? But he decided to try anyway. He had seen it in an old TV show his Gran liked to watch, called Colombo. The detective always wore a shaggy looking brown coat, and even though he didn’t look that bright, he always solved the case. Anytime Colombo faced a locked door, the first thing he did was to reach up and try the top of the door frame. Maybe there was a chance.